


Clear A Space In His Father's Lands

by lightningwaltz



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 01:51:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/pseuds/lightningwaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two woman who marry into the Martells contemplate their fates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mellario and Doran

**Author's Note:**

> On tumblr I got prompts for pairings, with the idea that I would show how they could be really dysfunctional. For that meme, among other prompts, I got Myrcella/Tyrstane and Mellario/Doran. And they wound up exploring some similar-ish themes. So it makes sense to post this in one work. (Myrcella/Tyrstane is in an AU because... yeah.)

Doran is staring her as though… what, precisely? As though she should be content?

“You’re just sending our son,” not just your son, my son too, “to the Yronwoods-“

“It’s common practice here, Mellario.” Exhaustion has wormed its way into every syllable. Mellario fights back dueling impulses; she want to comfort him, she wants to yell at him.

“You didn’t even consult with me on this.” She bites the inside of her cheek until she tastes blood. She has lived in Dorne for half her life. It’s been twelve years since she has heard the bells of Norvos. Mellario has ruled Sunspear by his side, ruled it faithfully and well, and does not deserve such condescension as his thanks.

Once, Doran would never have dreamed of speaking to her thus. Once they had bonded in her homeland, dreamed of governing together in equal partnership, discussed all they could accomplish. Everything, everything, had unraveled after Elia’s death, and Mellario could not put that puzzle back together again.

“I’m sorry,” and Mellario can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s sincere, that he’d never considered that this might hurt her. Somehow that hurts even more.

“Yes, well,” she can hear her voice rising, “the Westerosi regularly sell their children for political profit. I’m not surprised you’re the same.”

It’s cruel, and not quite accurate (not as far as Doran is concerned), but she has wanted to scream at him ever since he informed her, informed her, that their daughter was to marry the exiled son of the Targaryens. Ever since then, Mellario’s woken from blood-soaked dreams where Elia’s body transformed in to Arianne’s corpse.

“I’m not selling Quentyn.” Doran’s voice is so sad, and that still has the ability to stir Mellario’s compassion. Even after all this time.

Mellario resists the urge to give into it.

“But you are selling our daughter.”


	2. Myrcella/Tyrstane

When the Martells travel to King’s Landing for the coronation of Daenerys and Quentyn, Myrcella can tell that the air is rife with the belief she should be grateful for her life. All the darting glances aimed her way add up to a clear message; _the realm killed your mother, killed your uncles, killed your brothers too._ So Myrcella smiles until her teeth hurt, and tries not to imagine Tommen’s pale corpse lying on these same red stones. (He was killed by poison, they say, and his death was peaceful. More to be grateful for, she supposes.) She feigns happiness when she is compliment on how she is so unlike the late unlamented Queen Cersei.

Perhaps time has made a Martell out of her after all. She feels very much as if she has hidden fangs, instead of visible claws. Trystane, dear Trystane, is one of the only ones who seems to see _her_ in all of this. And the compassion in his eyes is worth all the gold in Casterly Rock. On occasion she imagines hugging him for it.

And on other occasions she imagines slitting his throat.


End file.
